Cake Break(ing and Entering)

I think Dante left out at least one important level of Hell when he penned Inferno. Surely there’s a special punishment reserved for whoever invented those plastic cake containers that you get at the grocery store. 

You know what I’m talking about – those blasted snap-together covers that require an advanced degree in engineering to disassemble. As you start separating the top from the bottom, the pieces somehow magically reconnect as you go around the container, and you find yourself in the confectionary equivalent of an endless do-loop. (If you’re a bicyclist, you’ve probably experienced the same phenomenon with a tire and rim; just about the time you think you’ve broken the bead, the other side snaps back into place and you’re at square one – or circle one.) The energy expended to get into these things could lead to the best weight-loss strategy ever invented.

And even when you succeed in opening the container, the price you pay is having cake bits fly around the room like straw in a tornado. Coconut cakes are particularly susceptible to this problem. And don’t get me started on the incredibly annoying snapping sounds that accompanies the extrication attempts. Our smoke detector alarm should have that decibel level.

Lest you think I’m exaggerating, here’s an actual photo of me trying to access said coconut cake in our kitchen. Someone needs to invent the equivalent of a powered can opener to deal with these infernal creations. Otherwise, I’m breaking out the chainsaw.